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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521821">In the Quiet of the Dawn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunenthusiast/pseuds/sunenthusiast'>sunenthusiast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Black Sails, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Captain Lee Jihoon, M/M, Mild Smut, One Shot, Other: See Story Notes, Past Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Quartermaster Kim Mingyu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 05:29:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521821</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunenthusiast/pseuds/sunenthusiast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mingyu was never loyal. But he would kill for Jihoon. </p>
<p>Worse. He would <em>live</em> for him. </p>
<p>Mingyu lied for a living. Lied as a survival tactic. Lied to tell the world of the adventures of the great pirate Captain Lee Jihoon. And every one of his lies was rooted in the fundamental truth that Jihoon was more than any man could ever be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In the Quiet of the Dawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i'm back and more foolish than ever! </p>
<p>you don't need to know anything about black sails to read this but its based off of that show which follows the story of captain james flint and the story of long john silver during the golden age of piracy. i've set this right around the beginning of season 3. </p>
<p>cw/ <strong> amputation </strong>mingyu, at this point, has lost one of his legs and if he wears the peg too long it starts to get painful and he suffers from lacerations. jihoon is one of the few who knows this. the discussion of the loss of a limb is present but not explicit, please do keep this in mind before reading. </p>
<p>wrote this in one go while blasting heaven by taemin on repeat, and as per my brand it is not edited. enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mingyu bleeds for Jihoon in the dark hours of the morning, before candles have been lit and the crew stirs into awareness. There is no sound beyond his soft laboured breathing into the pillow of Jihoon’s bed as his captain threads the needle through his flesh. Another open wound sewn shut by a man who should have let him die. </p>
<p>They did this by light of the moon and the whisper of the flame flickering in the lantern above. There was no reason to talk, no reason to expand on what was happening in the dead before dawn, only the sway of the ship in the waves and Jihoon’s hand as an anchor on his back. He let out a cry as the deepest part of his wound was tugged closed, muffled by the cloth he’s pushed between his teeth. A doctor should be doing this, not Jihoon, but Mingyu couldn’t fathom asking anyone else, couldn’t let anyone else see him like this again. Only Jihoon, whose hands were allowed to be slick with blood. In another life, if Mingyu were an artist, he would paint Jihoon in reds and golds, render him in the colour of rich wines, a divine shade along the column of his throat traced down until the bottom of the inky pools where he would stand, barefooted in water, dripping in glory. But Mingyu was no painter and could only do so much to weave tales of splendor with his words. Words which escaped him every time Jihoon looked at him, cared for him, and basked in the glow of his stories. </p>
<p>Mingyu lied for a living. Lied as a survival tactic. Lied to tell the world of the adventures of the great pirate Captain Lee Jihoon. And every one of his lies was rooted in the fundamental truth that Jihoon was more than any man could ever be. </p>
<p>At first he believed it to be envy. As time passed and his leg was lost to loyalty, he realized it was adoration. He wanted power. He wanted Jihoon to gain power. He wanted to be at his side as he did. He wanted to wash Jihoon in the golden light of victory across the seven seas and in turn be loved like the burning red of the setting sun on the horizon. He wanted the material. He craved the rest. </p>
<p>Mingyu let his mind fizzle out, eyes trained on the bookshelf to the side when the pain got too much to bear. At one point he believed he would never be able to experience pain nor pleasure ever again. Jihoon showed him otherwise. He imagined sitting somewhere on land, dirt beneath his hands as he listened to Jihoon read his favourite book out loud. His captain had a beautiful voice, even more so when focused on a task. Mingyu wanted to hear it more often, would dare to ask for it even now, if he were bolder, if he wasn’t afraid of letting himself spill out around the words unspoken. Sometimes quiet was meant to remain. Quiet was how Mingyu showed he was listening, waiting for Jihoon. </p>
<p>Jihoon was gentle as he tapped along the meat of Mingyu’s thigh to signal the last of it (the worst of it) and let Mingyu take a deep breath and brace for it. Mingyu, who only communicated with words, found he never needed to around Jihoon. It scared him, being able to read and be read by another without so much as a syllable. He said nothing at all and waited. He waited in the silence. Jihoon’s breathing was even, practiced, and a steady rhythm in contrast to Mingyu’s rapid rise and fall. Jihoon’s hands came down to finish closing the stitches, pulling tight on the string and cinching the flesh together. The burn was instant, spreading through his thigh, the skin around the nub of his knee rubbed raw and sensitive. Mingyu couldn’t make a sound at that, mouth open in a silent cry, as Jihoon poured the rest of the alcohol over his leg. Tears sprang to his eyes as he reburied his face into the pillow. He wished he was crying in Jihoon’s pillow for other reasons, bleeding for other reasons. </p>
<p>Sometime between the rebandaging of his leg and the dissipation of pain into an all too familiar ache, the bed dipped beside Mingyu’s hip and the hands returned to his lower back. Soothing circles were smoothed into the exposed sliver of his skin until he could think again, letting go of the pillow, eyes unblurring in the lantern light. Jihoon wordlessly helped Mingyu turn onto his back with steady arms and patient eyes. Mingyu felt stripped bare. He found he didn’t mind that.</p>
<p>Mingyu settled, allowing the dimness of the room to shroud his wandering gaze, tracing every part of Jihoon that he could. The contrast of pale moonlight and firelight flickering against his face made Mingyu more sure there never had been a man like him. Jihoon had cropped his hair short not long after Mingyu’s capture, the lack of dark locks letting his skin take on more of the sun. He glowed, a burn turned tan, a honey Mingyu wanted to set his mouth to as it dipped under the collar of his shirt, lick the sweet nectar until there was only skin and sweat and musk. Jihoon stared at Mingyu far too openly, his seemingly permanent frown even deeper set into the lines of his face than usual. Mingyu wanted to smooth the furrow between Jihoon’s brows with his thumb. He wouldn’t. </p>
<p>“You overworked yourself today,” Jihoon said, stern, voice a touch on the side of hoarse. No room for argument. That never deterred Mingyu from trying anyway. </p>
<p>Mingyu made a small noise--half to clear his throat, half to ease his voice into the air as gently as he could. “I was practicing, as you had prescribed me to do,” He said. His voice was low, quiet. “That is not overworking it.” </p>
<p>Jihoon seemed to get angry at that, reddened hands folded tightly in his lap. “It is overworking when you cause yourself pain.” </p>
<p>He felt his frustration surface, only held back by years of practice. The truth was he felt like dead weight, like a burden on the crew, like he could offer nothing anymore beyond his words, and Mingyu learned long ago that words aren’t the way men fight. He needed to practice as he is now, without the fear of not being able to fight alone. “Jihoon,” He said. “I am always in pain. If I don’t push past that, I’ll never get better.” </p>
<p>“Then infection will kill you long before any sword does.” </p>
<p>Mingyu didn’t know which he preferred. “Is drowning an option?” He asked, an attempted joke falling flat against Jihoon’s scowl. Fine. He sighed and opted to stay quiet and watch as the cogs in Jihoon’s brain began to turn. As uncomfortable as he was in the silence, he enjoyed the moments where Jihoon worked to bridge the gap between them. He was always afraid what was unsaid would fill the spaces in-between like water through the punctured hull of a ship, itched to patch the leaks with things that don’t matter in an attempt at self-preservation. </p>
<p>Jihoon was too comfortable with Mingyu. Too unguarded. Mingyu could see it in the way he looked at him in the moments between, in the way he would hold his arm, offering to stitch his wounds in the ungodly hours of the morning without a question as to <em>why</em>. It was destabilizing to Mingyu, to be so trusted, when there was no logical reason to trust him. Jihoon would touch Mingyu when he smiled, when he wished to draw attention to something, or for no reason at all, as though he wanted to ensure that Mingyu was really there and not just a figment of his imagination. Mingyu wanted Jihoon to know he was real and raw and present, a reason why perhaps he went to Jihoon before anyone else when he was sick and in pain, or happy, or angry--so angry that he would have to forcibly refrain from tearing at his hair and screaming. Instead, he would sit there and dig his fingers into the wood of the floor below, splinters under skin, the pain just different enough to make him remember who he was. He wanted to bleed for Jihoon, to assure him that he’s here too, that maybe he needed him as well. </p>
<p>Mingyu was never loyal. But he would kill for Jihoon. </p>
<p>Worse. He would <em>live </em>for him. </p>
<p>Jihoon was worth it. He was brilliant. Strong willed. Steadfast in everything he did. Clever in ways Mingyu never could be. Beautiful. God, Jihoon was beautiful. It made everything in Mingyu ache. Jihoon left pools of fire in the wake of his touch, even when it was in pain, even if it was at Mingyu’s detriment, he craved it. He wanted Jihoon in his entirety. </p>
<p>Mingyu offered his hand, let it be suspended high enough that the invitation was clear. Jihoon was softer in the late nights until dusk turned to dawn, and he watched as Jihoon’s eyes slowly slid from his face to his outstretched hand. He stared, unmoving. </p>
<p>Mingyu could wait a lifetime for Jihoon. </p>
<p>Jihoon swallowed thickly, like something was threatening to come out without his consent. He opened his mouth and tried again. “Why do you believe yourself any less than the others?” He asked. It was so quiet. </p>
<p><em>How can you tell? Why do you care? </em>Mingyu said nothing to that. There are only so many things that need to be explained. Jihoon carried on anyway. “The crew is here for you. They will fight for you.” </p>
<p>“I don’t want them to fight for me,” Mingyu said in a rush of air. “I can do it myself.” </p>
<p>“You don’t need to. You’ve already sacrificed enough for us all. Let us repay this.” </p>
<p>Mingyu pushed his palms against his face, pressing against his eyes until they stung. How could Jihoon not simply <em>understand</em>? An unfair request, he knew, for no man was a mind reader and Jihoon least of all imposed opinions upon Mingyu. But the frustration of not knowing where he stood with the crew while simultaneously knowing all too well what he meant to Jihoon was enough to choke him. Conflicted. Everything he could say felt stuck in his mind. For once he just wanted to <em>show</em> what he meant. But that wasn’t the role he assigned himself, nor the role he was expected to fill. </p>
<p>So, talk he would. “How far does loyalty go, <em>Captain</em>? How far will it take us when they realize that you’re doing everything for your own personal gain? How far will it take me when you are done with this world?” Silver curled around his tongue, heavy with every word he spoke, burning his throat and searing a new agony into his heart each time Jihoon flinched reflexively. “Where is my place if not beside you? What becomes of me when you find what you want?” Mingyu willed his voice to remain steady, a skill honed. “If I am not sufficient alone, how do you expect me to survive without you? Or do you wish me dead when you are done with me?” </p>
<p>Words like swords he hand crafted from years of betrayal he gave and earned in turn. A powerful wound to be struck and he wanted it to hurt. Jihoon wouldn’t bleed for Mingyu, but he could hurt all the same. Mortal wounds came in different forms and Mingyu weaponized that better than anyone else. </p>
<p>“You don’t get to drag me into your world, force me into your games, and then tell me I can trust anyone,” He said. He hated that he felt a pang of pride at the way Jihoon’s face crumpled. “I’ve seen this world. I’ve felt when it turns cruel and takes even when you think you have nothing left to give. I implore you, tell me, what becomes of a lying quartermaster when the lies he wove out of loyalty and adoration unravel? What happens then, <em>Captain</em>?” </p>
<p>“Don’t call me that,” Jihoon said. His voice was on the edge of anger. Mingyu wanted to feel it. </p>
<p>“Why not?” Mingyu asked, venomous. Looking for a fight. Seeking the pain. “Are you angry that I can’t fill the hole your husband left when he died like you thought I could?” </p>
<p>The slap was a sharp crack against his cheek, the sting instant. Jihoon held back because Mingyu could still feel his lips as he smiled, the taste of blood only the reopening of a barely healed cut. Mingyu felt real again. Hated that this is what it took. Another price, another burden. He would shoulder it alone with his crutch and sword. </p>
<p>Jihoon was angry, upset, and something else Mingyu couldn’t place while looking at him. His teeth were bared under the curl of his lip as he seemingly spoke with more ease to Mingyu than he had in the past week. “I would never try to replace Seungcheol. Never. There is no one who is like him. There will never be another man like him again,” He said. He reached out and put his hand on Mingyu’s thigh where he was seated beside, a branding of a different kind. “You really think I would compare you two? That I would expect you to be him?” The hand moved up until it was splayed against Mingyu’s cloth covered stomach, his heartbeat strong in his ears. “Just as there was no man like Seungcheol, there will be no other man like you.” </p>
<p>Mingyu sucked in a breath roughly too aware of his own body and floating above it. Jihoon never did things in halves. His captain, his other, his equal, stared down at him with a hunger that Mingyu saw in battles. The presence of him like this eclipsed Mingyu, made him feel small, pinned under his gaze. He loved it. He wanted more. “Yeah?” He asked, a breathy encouragement. <em>Please. Tell me. Give me your words. </em></p>
<p>He hummed his agreement, smoothing the hand over Mingyu again until his breath hitched noticeably. “I thought you knew, but I see now,” Jihoon said. “I am as loyal to you as you are to me. You are my equal. There is no end to us should the world allow it.” </p>
<p>The words sunk into his skin, cannonball to hull, bullet to flesh and bone, splintering his resolve like wood and man in the wake of war and he shuddered with the force of it. “Jihoon--” </p>
<p>“Do you understand me?” The commanding tone ripped through Mingyu as he nodded upon instinct. “Then say it. Tell me you understand.” </p>
<p>“I understand,” He said. Jihoon’s hand curled into the fabric of his shirt, the other one steadying him beside Mingyu’s shoulder on the bed as he leaned into his space. Mingyu could only focus on the slope of Jihoon’s nose, the way his lips formed a gentle yet rueful smile. Mingyu wanted to lean up and take it. He knew better than to try. </p>
<p>Jihoon stayed hovering, just beyond his reach. “Understand what?” Mingyu didn’t want to answer that. It was easy to say he understood. Hard to believe it. Even harder to vocalize it. He adored that Jihoon knew him well enough for this, and despised it in equal measure. Jihoon gripped his jaw, forcing him to <em>look</em>. “What do you understand? Mingyu, tell me.” </p>
<p>“I am your equal. There will be no end to us,” He said. “I will be by your side until something tears us apart.” </p>
<p>Jihoon braced himself above, careful of Mingyu’s leg, always so careful. “Good,” He whispered. Mingyu preened at the praise and Jihoon dipped down to kiss him. Mingyu arched into it immediately, desperate, claiming as he kissed Jihoon back with everything he had. Jihoon slowed his pace down by holding his face, turning his head where he wanted him, and kissing him thoroughly, searching, like maybe Mingyu had everything he needed. Everything he wanted. </p>
<p>Mingyu was taken apart easily after that, Jihoon pressing marks into Mingyu’s collarbones where his shirts just barely covered, pulling his garments off with more care than he ever had. It made him feel, even briefly, like maybe he was worth it. And when Jihoon worked his way down Mingyu’s body, kissing warmth into his chest, stomach, hips, and just above his wounds on his leg, Mingyu felt cherished. “Come here,” He croaked, pulling Jihoon back up to him to bite at the plush of his lips, kissing him languidly, far too tender for them as they were, but anything goes in the dark before dawn. Jihoon licked into his mouth, tracing his teeth, expertly pulling whines from Mingyu until he was panting against Jihoon, hard against his stomach, aching. </p>
<p>Mingyu wants to be fucked, to get his mouth on Jihoon and make him shake apart until he cries out from it, wants to be the one to make everything good, wants to make Jihoon feel <em>good</em>, but he can’t. So he was forced to take what he is given, coming in the form of Jihoon sucking him off like it's the last thing he will ever do, like Mingyu was built of something worth craving like this, and it made him shudder.  </p>
<p>He comes like that, hand fisted tightly into Jihoon’s hair, voice cracking around a moan as Jihoon swallows and <em>fuck</em> Mingyu doesn’t care as he’s dragging him up roughly to crash his mouth against Jihoon’s. Jihoon is too careful of his leg, pushing Mingyu back to maneuver him better but Mingyu whines, doesn’t care if Jihoon’s pleasure comes at the cost of his comfort, he wants Jihoon to know that he’s worth it. Mingyu bites bruises into Jihoon’s throat just to hear his voice, to hear how much he wants this too. He soothes it with his tongue before staring Jihoon in the eyes and licking down the length of his own hand and reaching for Jihoon’s cock. </p>
<p>Mingyu likes feeling the weight of Jihoon on him, encourages the other man to lay on him as he teases the head of his cock with his fingers, reveling in how easy it is to pull soft groans and heady breaths from him. Mingyu is so far gone for him, realizes that he would end anything to keep him happy, just to hear him try and muffle his pleasure against the skin of Mingyu’s shoulder. He tightened his fist and stroked faster, until Jihoon locked up and came with a wordless shout, spilling across their torsos. </p>
<p>The after was quiet, more quiet than they had been. Mingyu held Jihoon tightly to his chest, content to listen to his breathing. This was not the first time they had done this, but it was the first time where Mingyu knew what it meant. He was scared of how much he wanted, how ready he was to do anything if it meant he could keep <em>this</em>. This version of Jihoon, and not the feared Captain Lee Jihoon, the most deadly pirate to roam the seas, was his own to keep. </p>
<p>Jihoon kissed his temple softly and Mingyu pulled him tighter. He knew they would have to move to clean up soon, before the morning bells rang and the day began, as Jihoon noted. But Mingyu didn’t want to let go just yet. </p>
<p>“Equals,” Mingyu said. “Am I your equal only here?”</p>
<p>Jihoon, in a moment of tenderness, looked softly at Mingyu before poking him in the bruise on his hip, causing him to squirm. “We’re equals everywhere,” Jihoon said. “A captain is no captain without a quartermaster.” </p>
<p><em>I need you</em>. Unsaid. Leaking in everywhere now, the spaces between his heart, filled with Jihoon. Mingyu stole one last kiss, delighted in the way Jihoon seemed to feign exasperation at it. <em>I want you</em> marked in the way Jihoon let Mingyu lay there as he cleaned them both up. </p>
<p>And Mingyu wanted. He wanted and wanted. He was always accused of being greedy, of taking more than he deserved. He was an endless pit of desire, and for once someone matched him with his ambition and greed and lust. It was intoxicating. He never wanted to let Jihoon go, no matter how violent the world got, nor how much the sea took from them. Mingyu would learn to shoulder it all if it meant he remained where he was, no matter how much the prospect of belonging terrified him.</p>
<p>Gold was worth their struggles. Loyalty was worth their pain. Mingyu figured then that love was worth his fear. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you haven’t already, i highly recommend watching black sails </p>
<p><a href="https://www.twitter.com/citruswonwoo">twitter</a> | <a href="https://curiouscat.me/sunenthusiast">cc</a></p>
<p> </p></blockquote></div></div>
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